


nothing good starts in a getaway car

by bodytoflame



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e15 Orpheus, Episode: s07e18 Dirty Girls, Faith's into Buffy, Mentioned Willow/Kennedy, Mentioned Willow/Tara, Missing Scene, What else is new, the dynamic between these two is INCREDIBLE how dare they not show them interacting more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodytoflame/pseuds/bodytoflame
Summary: willow, faith, and one incredibly tense ride back to sunnydale.
Relationships: Implied Faith Lehane/Willow Rosenberg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	nothing good starts in a getaway car

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw fellas
> 
> this practically wrote itself
> 
> i adore writing both of these characters and the dynamic at this point in both of their arcs is just chefs kiss also faith can have a little bisexuality as a treat
> 
> title from miss t swift, obviously

“So,” Faith says, kicking her feet up on the dash as she closes the car door, “You’re seeing someone?”

She doesn’t bother to tell her off. A clean car is pretty low on her list of concerns right now. “Um, yeah, kinda. This potential. Kennedy.” Though… if she and Fred weren’t dealing with two separate apocalypses… she might have thought it over more, because, _whew_ , that mind.

“Potential, huh?” Faith nods, biting her lip in a smile. Her attitude, at the very least, clearly hasn’t changed. “God, I _knew_ you were into chicks!”

“Was it really that obvious? ‘Cause it took _me_ long enough to figure out…” She never thought Faith was particularly observant — so Willow really wonders who else might’ve noticed. Faith reaches for the radio dial before she has a chance to, making a face at the pop station she’d chosen earlier. Couldn’t she at least defy _one_ stereotype? Like… liking country music? Or… 80s hair metal?

“I mean, wasn’t hard after I saw the way you were lookin’ at that witchy girl.”

“I— can we… can we not talk about it?” Willow’s hands grip the wheel tight. She has to remind herself that Faith doesn’t mean to. _She doesn’t know anything._ Thank _goddess_ she wasn’t driving yet — she has to close her eyes and focus on her breathing to keep her cool. No breakdowns. Especially not in front of _Faith_. She’d have a field day.

Faith leans back, a suitable alternative station found. Willow notes, she leaves the volume low. “Alright. Touchy subject. Noted.”

She pulls out onto the street, only making it a block before her impulses take over. “It’s not that, it’s just—” Why is she even _entertaining_ the _idea_ of this conversation with her? _Because there’s no one else to tell it to. No one that won’t take pity on her. Or fear her._ “She died. Last year.”

“Fuck, Red, that’s… _fuck_ …”

“ _Yeah._ ”

“Vamp? Demon?”

She shakes her head. _Human._ Faith is silent. “I kinda… killed him and almost caused the apocalypse.”

“…The guy?”

She keeps her eyes fixed on the road. It’s an easy excuse not to face her. “Mhm.”

“Sounds pretty familiar,” Faith determines after a few moments of thought.

 _I’m nothing like you_ — Willow bites back the thought — _You are, though._

“You’re too pretty for prison, though. Wouldn’t last a week, two, tops.”

“Instead I got magic rehab in England with Giles, so I guess I got off easy.”

“Like… rehab with magic, or… rehab for magic?” Faith seems genuinely curious — it’s weird, seeing her like this; so different.

“Surprisingly, both.” Willow had been expecting more of a twelve step program. Well, _first_ she expected dying, but when it turned out to be a genuine attempt to get her better, she was thinking more… _Magicks Anonymous_.

“Sounds fun.”

“It was actually pretty cool. I got to meet all these different witches from the coven, and they taught me so many things about keeping myself groun— and… you don’t care,” She glances over, seeing Faith’s bored expression for a fraction of a second before returning her gaze to the highway. Not much traffic out tonight. Plus, no one _goes_ to Sunnydale, not for fun like they would LA.

“Not exactly.” Faith puts her feet down, so that’s one problem solved. “So, I got a coma, what’d they do to you?”

“I… got a rehash of embarrassing childhood memories.” Certainly not as dramatic, she’ll say.

“God, how did _you_ almost destroy the world?”

Almost too easily. “The spell I did to give Angelus his soul back? _Child’s play._ You haven’t seen half of what I can do. And trust me when I say, you don’t want to.” Her words are bitter, and she almost regrets them before she recalls the person on the other end. No matter how ‘reformed’, it’s still Faith. Faith who went all big bad with the snake-mayor-thing and got all up in Buffy’s face about it.

Faith lets her outburst sit for a moment before she responds, “They’ve made a badass out of you yet, huh. Never would’ve thought that was possible.”

Willow thought she’d be that bookish wallflower for the rest of her life. But she also didn't expect to be fighting vampires and demons, so… hey, anything’s possible. “Yeah, well I’ve changed.”

She sighs. “So have I.”

They ride in silence for a while. The lights of LA slowly fade from view, as the highway ends; long, winding, increasingly empty roads bringing them closer to Sunnydale.

“I still see his face sometimes.” Faith says suddenly, under her breath.

“Me too.” In her dreams. Nightmares, really. In the men she sees walking by, always looking over her shoulder. In the mirror. “They don’t understand. What it’s like.” No matter how many times she’s tried to talk about it, even if her own words are there; it’s like she’s speaking an entirely different language from them. It’s not like she _wants_ to like Faith, but when she’s speaking Willow’s language, it almost feels _natural_.

“No. They don’t. I thought out of everyone… Buffy would.”

 _Buffy._ Right. That might be a problem, on account of the whole we-tried-to-murder-each-other situation. Faith doesn't seem too bothered, her being willing and almost enthusiastic to come back to Sunnydale, but she thinks Buffy might be a _little_ less happy about it. “I don’t think she’s gonna be thrilled to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Faith brushes her off, “I’ll deal with that when we get there. Plus, it ain’t like I got anywhere else to go.”

“But you helped,” Willow offers, “And Angel vouched for you. That’s worth a lot.”

“You think?”

“We need all the help we can get. And a second slayer? _Major_ help.” Largely, the reason Willow didn’t hesitate to take Faith up on her offer to help. All the potentials are just that — potential. They don’t have the powers, the strength, or the healing that Buffy and Faith do. She hates seeing them have to risk their lives with every encounter. A second slayer _doubles_ their chances of making it out of this. Of _Buffy_ making it out of this.

“Guess I didn’t think of it that way.” Faith shrugs. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

 _You get it._ “They gave me a second chance. The least I can do is give you one.” Willow sighs, exhausted. “ _Shoot,_ ” Just another thing gone wrong. “I need gas.”

“We could double back to the last town. Can’t be more than a few miles.”

They do. There’s LA, and Sunnydale, demon hotspot and Hellmouth, and then, there’s the in-between. Places like this. They seem so… normal. And they are. Normal, average places, with normal, average people. Stuck in the middle of all of this, with probably no sense of anything out of the ordinary, save for perhaps a slightly higher murder rate…

Faith follows her out of the car, lighting a cigarette.

“Do you _want_ us to explode?”

She shrugs. “Could be better than the whole First Evil deal. I like my odds.”

 _Maybe._ Willow sighs, and starts the pump, resigned: “You better not make my car smell like cigarettes.”

“Eh,” Faith shrugs, leaning up against the car and taking another drag. “World’s probably gonna end anyways.”

“You don’t know that. Buffy’ll find a way.” Willow isn’t sure how much she believes that. It feels nice to say anyways. “And I still don’t want to sit in a cloud of your smoke for another hour, apocalypse or not.” She _also_ didn’t want to be sitting in some skeevy gas station with one Faith Lehane, but… here they are.

“You know, this is exciting for me. On account of, y’know, snoozing my way through the last one — or well, two, apparently, you’re tellin’ me.”

Willow chuckles, screwing the gas cap back on. “Try _three_. I can tell you from personal experience they’re not exactly good clean fun.” Not her fondest memories — and she isn’t looking forward to the next one.

“Yeah, but aren’t you supposed to do all kinds ‘a reckless things when your life’s in danger?”

Willow knows a thing or two about that, even if her crush on Xander is long-forgotten. She turns to face Faith. “Um. It’s been… known to happen.”

“See, that’s the kind of stuff I used to live for.” Faith drops the end of her cigarette to the ground, stomping out the last embers with her boot. “I mean, I know I’m all goody-goody now, but… hey, if we _are_ gonna die, no one’ll care or even notice if I fall off the wagon for a second, right?”

 _No. No one noticed,_ Willow thinks. Even if it was just for a second.

“Yo, Red.” Faith waves her hand in front of Willow’s face. “Don’t go all _blue pill_ on me.”

“What?”

“ _The Matrix_. You know, _Keanu Reeves, red pill, blue pill, face the big bad or live in the little world in your head where everything’s same-old-same-old til’ you die?_ I thought we were goin’ down to Sunnydale to kick some evil ass, not talk about our problems.”

 _Right…_ “But… they were… robots?” Artificial intelligence. Same thing. Not really. _Not important, impending apocalypse._

 _So… Faith fell asleep after the first 30 minutes. Sue her._ “Huh?”

“…Never mind.”

“Listen.” Faith stands up, stretching before meeting Willow’s eyes. “I know you don’t wanna talk about it, or whatever. I get it. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

No, it wasn’t exactly on her list of pressing topics to discuss with her local recently-less-evil, escaped-convict slayer. “Thanks.” Willow nods, pulling on the cuffs of her sweater, “Sorry for the almost-getting-murdered-in-jail.”

“Nah, no big. They could’ve sent the whole block after me and I’d still be here.”

“That’s…” _Frightening._ “Good.” She doesn’t doubt the truth in it for a second.

“Spot me a dollar? I want some fruit snacks.”

“Yeah,” Willow reaches into her pocket, pulling out a few bills and change, dropping what little cash she has left into Faith’s hand. Somewhere, the universe must be laughing at her. She follows her into the convenience store, tailing just behind Faith as she grabs her candy and places it on the counter unceremoniously.

Faith counts out the change, leaning far over the counter with a devilish smile on her face. She slides the coins over to the teenage boy at the cash register, no older than them, one by one, as she talks. “So, uh, that potential you were talkin’ about. God, what’s her name…”

“Kennedy?” Willow asks, quiet. _This random stranger doesn’t need to know her business. Neither does Faith, for that matter._

“Yeah. Her. What’s goin’ on there?” The register dings. The poor kid looks almost inhumanly disinterested.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I wasn’t expecting it. She’s nice. _Different_.”

Faith tears into the bag with her teeth as the boy hands her the receipt, popping a red one into her mouth. “What’s she like?”

“Well…” Willow follows her back out to the car, still parked next to the pump. The place is desolate. “She came on to me… not so sub with the text.” Not something she’d ever seen, at least not directed at _her_ — Buffy's flirting with Riley was just about as overt as it gets. “She’s… really pretty. Brown hair, just a little shorter than me. She’s _badass_. She has all these crazy stories from when she was a kid and the _mansion_ her family owns. Never heard anything like that, growing up in Sunnydale and all. Kinda… feisty? I… I don’t think she likes Buffy. But Buffy’s got the whole impending apocalypse to deal with, so maybe she just didn’t make a good first impression.”

“Sounds like a handful.”

 _Maybe… not in those exact words._ “Well… I mean, yeah, she’s loud, and bold, and strong — obviously, because _potential_ — she’s… just completely different from anyone I’ve ever…”

“Fucked?”

“ _Faith!_ ” She can feel the slight blush creep up onto her cheeks.

Faith raises an eyebrow.

 _Well… it’s not like anyone else wants to hear about it…_ “I mean,” Willow’s face heats up, mumbling, “she’s got a pierced tongue.”

It takes a second for Faith to recover, eyes wide and lips forming a smirk. She laughs, loudly, “God _damn_ , Red, you’re _fun_ now!”

“Yeah, well, comes with the territory.” The territory they _share_.

“Sure, but… just never figured you’d be a friends-with-benefits-type gal.”

“I—” _Kennedy’s not…_ “She’s…”

“What,” Faith laughs, eyebrows raised in disbelief, “your _girlfriend_?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess so!” _Isn’t she?_

“You better quit guessin’, Red. Girl’s been through enough already if it’s as bad as you said.”

“What?”

“Whether you actually want this right now, or just want to feel something.”

She’s not sure what’s more worrying — the fact that Faith is right, or the fact that she’s been flinging herself into a post-almost-apocalyptic rebound without a second thought, until now. Willow crosses her arms, pulling them in close to her chest. “Since when do you give decent advice?”

Faith stops at the driver’s side door, blocking Willow’s path. “My own special blend of trying desperately to get over someone I’ll never have, and, well… prison changes a woman. You know half of that, yeah?”

“That would be a no on the prison.” And a yes to the other, in her own way. No need to explain. Faith’s gotten the _previously on_ already. But Willow hasn’t heard Faith’s side. “Who was he?”

“ _He?_ ” Faith laughs, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Come on, read the room, Red. I haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Willow’s eyes widen, and she takes a small step back, bumping into the car door. “Are you saying…?” To be fair, she kind of figured Faith swung that way too. Violently. _With her own two fists and a stake._ She just didn’t think _she_ was exactly the kind of person Faith would be into.

“ _No_ , not you, Red,” she chuckles. “Should I be asking you the same thing, though? ‘Cause Slayer Junior sounds like you gave 16-year-old me a trust fund and less mommy issues.” She steps closer to Willow again, running a finger down her arm. “I mean, all you had to do was ask.”

Willow doesn’t say anything — but she doesn’t move. She knows from experience it’s best not to entertain Faith in these kinds of situations.

Faith, to her credit, does back off, but stands her ground, continuing the conversation; “She likes you. She _chased_ you.”

“I like her too.” Kennedy’s… cool. _Yeah._

“But not the way she wants.” Willow knows that, on some level. “We’ve got enough emotionally fucked up slayers here with just me and B, Red.”

“I don’t know if I could.” _The way she wants._

Faith nods. “Too bad we both got a thing for blondes. I guess we’re not so different after all. What with the whole, temporary-evil bit.”

She decides to ignore Faith’s comparison. “I don’t have a _thing_ … and… and I didn’t think you were… _picky_.”

“I’m not,” Faith says, shrugging. “I think it must be a slayer thing.”

Oh. “ _Oh._ ” She means Buffy. “So… you were…”

“Absolutely screwed and not in the fun way.” She doesn’t take her cue (she _was_ hitting on Buffy, wasn’t she?), just lets out what Willow can tell Faith was bottling up for so long.

Not that Faith crushing on Buffy is an easy thought to reconcile — it frames… just about every interaction they’ve had in a new light. Especially one: “So then why’d you pull a _Freaky Friday_ on her?”

Willow hates that she thinks she might know the answer.

“Dunno. Wanted to see how the other half lived. Blondes have more fun, et cetera. And, well…” Faith smirks, letting out a laugh with a subtle wink. Not to mention, still shoveling fruit gummies into her mouth all the while.

 _Yeah._ She shouldn’t have asked. “Please don’t make that face ever again.”

“What, you never noticed I was makin’ eyes at her way back?” Willow shakes her head. “Seriously? Damn, I knew B was oblivious, but you, Red? I figured you know, girl on — sorry, girl _to_ girl — you woulda seen something.”

Willow can’t help the red-hot blush from Faith’s (clearly intentional) slip from flooding her entire face. “ _What is this_ , Faith?” She asks, and she’s honestly almost amused. For her to pull this, at a time like _this_ , after telling Willow she's been crushing on her best friend for _years_ … it's _entirely_ Faith, and then some.

“What?” _You know exactly what this is._

“What are you trying to do here?”

“Come on, Red,” Faith smiles, a sickeningly sweet veneer covering up every dark part of her. She moves in quick, catching herself with a hand on the car, just next to Willow’s head. “A girl can’t catch up and reminisce?”

“Not about trying to seduce my best friend and almost causing the apocalypse.”

“Then I guess you can’t talk either, huh?”

“Don’t,” Willow says, through gritted teeth, “go there.” How many times does she have to tell Faith she _doesn't want to talk about it_?

“I told you. Not so different.” No, not in so many words. You _almost_ cause _one_ apocalypse, and suddenly, _you’re the bad guy_.

“What’s your point?” Willow asks, her temper growing shorter with each passing second she has to spend in Faith’s presence. And it’s at _least_ another two hours of this.

“I dunno,” Faith sighs, “Something about doing reckless things, blah, blah, I forget.” She leans in closer and Willow has nowhere to go. “But I _do_ recall you saying something about good clean fun?”

Willow fumbles for the handle behind her. “I-I don’t know what you’re getting at.” That’s a lie. She knows exactly what Faith’s suggesting. The worst part is, she can’t say she’s not tempted — yeah, Faith’s hot — but there’s also about a million reasons she could list off the top of her head why it’s a bad idea.

“You, me, _about four years of emotional baggage_ , what’s not to get?” She can feel Faith’s breath. “I know what it’s like to want someone you can’t have.”

“It’s not the same, Faith.” Her keys jingle as she fiddles with them.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get it.” Faith takes a step further back, and cracks her knuckles, swaying back and forth on her feet. She reaches out her hand, and gestures her head toward the keys in Willow’s hand. “Come on. Lemme take it for a spin, Red.”

Willow takes advantage of the opening — her distance — slipping inside the car silently before Faith can respond. She crosses her arms. Willow raises her voice, looking at Faith through the dirty window. “ _Get in the car._ ”


End file.
